The Whole Bottle
by Heavenly Moments
Summary: A Different spin on the 4x09 episode "A Man Of His Word". More on the scene at the club and more. Sarkney.


**The Whole Bottle**

AU on tequila night with Sanko, Sark and Sydney.

Sarkney. (Characters can be seen as very OOC, depends on your opinion.)

I don't own Alias

When reviewing, keep in mind that you don't have to flame.

Thank you and read on.

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It was an in-and-out kind of plan, or that's at least how Sydney had pictured for the evening's length. Sanko would tell them about the bomb and about Anna Espinosa. She wouldn't have to be the woman she despised for long either…the woman that Sark had worked with as well the woman that Vaughn had both married, 'loved' and killed. And she wouldn't have had to kiss Sark to please Sanko.

But no, she was currently half sitting on Sark's lap with a glass of tequila she hadn't insisted upon from Sanko in her hand. It didn't help either that the blond wig she had been wearing for the now almost two hours was itching insanely.

Sanko was giggling at this point, just dropping his glass on the floor. He hiccupped again and began not so politely asking his woman to get him another. Sydney turned down to look at Sark, only to see a smirk on his face. He didn't even appear to have been drinking. He had put down three shots easy, his face not flushed in the slightest.

She rolled her eyes, happy that at least the contacts were staying in well.

Sark had been cooperating well, much to her delight and disappointment. She loved that this operation was going somewhat well however, even though Sanko kept telling them to stay and drink with him. Her and Sark had periodically asked for more details on the bomb but Sanko was taking his sweet time telling them. She wondered how long this would take, or if he even knew the details himself.

Sanko laughed, funneling down a shot as soon as he got another glass. "Are you sure you don't want anymore Ms. Reed?" He slithered, holding the bottle shakily over her glass on the table. Sark looked amusedly over at her, his brow raised and waiting for an answer along with Sanko.

Before Sydney could respond, Sanko spoke. "Of course you want one. But…what had I been meaning to- Ah, yes. Would you two be interested in staying in one of my private rooms? That is of course…if you have no where to be until tomorrow afternoon?"

Sydney and Sark were both momentarily silent, and just as Sydney wanted to suggest the negative, Sark went on and accepted his offer. "It'd be a pleasure, wouldn't it love?" The words rolled off his tongue so smoothly as his blue eyes went deep into her brown.

"Julian and I would love to." She managed a sultry smile and took another sip of her drink, hearing Vaughn's distinct complaints about the operation, especially about Sark, in her ear.

"Let's uh.. At least finish the bottle before hand hm?" The club owner suggested, filling Sark's off-to-the-side shot glass, full. "I want to see both off you smashed. Everything's more fun that way." Sydney resisted her snort at the man, the man who was looking more like a pig as the night went on.

She didn't have to turn much to see Sark bend forward and grab his glass, drawing it up to his mouth and allow the tangy liquid to slip down. Still, no signs of the alcohol affecting him. His stare came upon her then, the unknown swirling around in his eyes. They weren't far apart, and as if he sensed her thoughts, the cocky bastard coiled an arm around her waist to remind her of whose company she was in. As if she couldn't forget that she was situated on his thigh. Sydney grit her teeth together, forcing her body to relax as his fingers began drawing small circles on her right hip. It bothered her how quickly she could. She had to remind herself that she did already have a few shots of tequila.

Sark's loving this, she thought with an inward grumble.

Sanko stumbled up, releasing a disgusting burp. "Just excuse that…let us be going." Sydney sighed, going to get up when she found herself being brought back down by a strong grip. She looked up to see dark blue eyes staring right at her and feeling a certain pair of hands holding her hips in place. "Watch your step." He warned, his face low with his face right in front of hers. A hand previously on her hip glided up her side and then underneath her breasts. His eyes stayed on hers the whole time.

Her gaze didn't falter, it wouldn't. And as badly as she wanted to pound his pretty face in for touching her like this, she couldn't. She couldn't risk beating him to a pulp in the open, even though Sanko was so hammered that he wouldn't even recall her doing so…and Sark would win their game if she did.

She held back her smirk as she decided to play his game, for now. Her hand drifted down from his shoulder and ran it along his other thigh, swearing she heard his breath quicken. Her eyes came back up and she leaned in, right in front of his mouth and whispered, "Thanks. I'll have to watch myself." Sydney smirked then as she stood up quickly, looking with interest at Sark as she watched him regain focus.

"You coming you two?" Sanko piped in from several feet ahead, holding onto the railing tightly. Sydney nodded, standing near the drunken man. She saw as Sark abruptly got up, adjusted his jacket and walked towards them. Her eyes turned toward his nearing presence and met themselves with those deep blue eyes once more as he slipped a possessive hold around her as if it was the most natural action in the world.

Sanko stopped by his room first, dropping his key twice before managing to point to where Sydney and Sark would be sleeping and closing the door behind him to his suite. Sydney chuckled silently at the man's clear drunkenness and faced back to where Sark was, only to find him finishing opening the door to their room. Sydney took a look around, studying the place she'd be sharing with Sark. They both swept through the suite, only finding one camera and overloading it. They were safe in the room.

"I can't believe you accepted his offer." Sydney immediately grumbled out near the door, removing her comm piece and tossing it onto an end table. Sark didn't even look in her direction but instead inspected some of the art in the entrance area. "Are you even listening to me Sark?"

"Yes."

"Aren't you going to even think about how much you altered the operation?" She added in, a part of her set on seeing him struggle with something.

"Already have."

"You mind sharing it with the rest of the class?" She was getting really sick of his participation deficit. She walked over to him, his back to her as he hung up his jacket by the door. "Sark!"

"Yes love?" Sark turned on his heel in one motion, his arms half crossed. He was clearly amused by all this, and only gave her one of those damn smirks.

"Don't call me- That's beside the point. You want to talk to me or not?" She mirrored his arms, waiting for a reply. She couldn't even begin to think how they would make it through the night, she didn't think she could stand sleeping in the same room as the blonde.

"I don't actually."

"You don't…okay… that's a lot of help" She realigned her wig as she stepped closer, her hands in the air now to show her points. "What's going to happen then smartass? And please, do me the favor of just answering the question. I'm sick of this jumping around the bush crap." Sark smirked again, sauntering over to her with a haunting gaze.

"I'd much prefer you to kiss me again, Sydney…then perhaps I'll think about contributing."

Sydney raised an eyebrow, "A kiss for information? Are you kidding me?" She watched as his face, still the same with his eyes so strongly blue. "What are you, in high school? Just tell me Sark."

Something flickered in his gaze, but she couldn't figure out what.

She saw as he risked another step forward, only a few feet away from her now. She couldn't help but wonder what was going on in that man's mind at the moment. She had already told him no, but yet he still tested boundaries.

"Just one Sydney." Sark murmured, pressing his lips close together.

The brunette crossed her arms stiffly, her brows scrunched. Her eyes swept him over. His hair was strewn about, like a hand ran through it a few times. Two buttons were undone from his button-up silk shirt, his collarbone showing and his black dress pants hugged his legs.

Her gaze went down temporarily, coming back up shortly after only to find him right in front of her, about an inch away. She could feel his breath hitting her, and her eyes located his. They were darker than before. And just as she was going to step away from him, and out of whatever situation had formed between them, his hand came up. He ran his thumb slowly over her jaw line before ghosting over her bottom lip, not faltering in the slightest.

"Sark.." She warned. He didn't seem to intent on listening to anything though, as one hand moved to hold the back of her head, his fingers going through the blond tresses while the other hand gripped onto her dress-covered hip.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about this…" Sark replied in a whisper, his mouth hovering over hers.

"No." Yes, she had thought about it at least a few times, who wouldn't? But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that. She'd never hear the end of it. "What, so you think I have a thing for you…like every other woman Sark? Right, just because -" His mouth was on hers fiercely, both of his satanic hands grasping the back of her head and his body crashing into hers, pinning hers against the nearest wall.

Her eyes closed to their own accord, her arms still at her sides as she gasped. He kissed her deeper, his tongue slipping inside her mouth quickly. She hadn't expected this from him; this act of spontaneity.

Sydney raised both hands up to his chest, trying to push him back but Sark only came closer, cutting the space between them. She felt one hand go up her side, and his fingertips barely touch the side of one of her breasts. A light moan escaped from her, only spurring him on and pressing against her tighter. Then she involuntarily kissed him back.

The tequila on his tongue was intoxicating, and her hands came up to tug the blond curls at the back of his head. She had wanted to grip those curls for as long as she could remember, especially when they were working together at SD-6. Her nose flared, sucking in air desperately as she nibbled on his crooked bottom lip. He groaned.

It was wrong to the highest degree.

The sound of him in pleasure thrust her back to reality, her mouth detaching from his so fast that he continued to lean forward with his blue eyes still closed. She pushed him, and this time his body stumbled back. Unlike the first time however, she was met with no resistance.

The simple sound of their similar, hard breathing was the only noise in the room at first.

"Sydney" He began, his voice low and husky.

"No. Just don't.. please."

She released a slow breath, smoothing out her black dress and slowly walking around him. She went toward the bedroom. She could feel his eyes following her until she closed the door behind her.

Sydney released a shuddering breath as she stood against the door, her head back. The sight of his eyes before he kissed her was imprinted within her, seeing them even when she closed her own . Flashes of what happened between them also played on repeat in her mind.

"Breathe Sydney…just a kiss, like in the club. Doesn't mean anything.." She mumbled into the air, attempting to reassure herself.

Her cheeks were flushed, and her skin burned where he touched her. And she hated to admit it to herself, but it was one of the best kisses she had ever had in her life. The passion and want she felt from Sark was unlike anything she had experienced, in another league from what she had felt from Vaughn in years past when they destroyed SD-6.

Sydney took off the blonde wig, looking at it momentarily before placing it on the bed. She let her hair down, the brown tresses falling until they reached her shoulders. She coughed lightly, proceeding to slip off her black dress and kicking off her matching heels.

She opened up a few drawers, looking for something to wear after her shower. She managed to find a pair of sweats and a black tank top. Picking up the items, she walked into the bathroom and making sure to lock the door. She put her undergarments in a pile, along with the clothes she picked out from the room, on the tile floor.

The shower was invigorating. She rose her head up, the water striking and flowing down her face. "God damn him.. that son of a bitch" She said into the water, "And… Vaughn.." But what made her distraught was the fact that she didn't feel ashamed.

Vaughn. He was getting better, partly, but Lauren still haunted him, his eyes heavy with the weight of that woman's betrayal. There was a small difference though, she noticed, after opening up her grave with Sark but something was still bothering him. She couldn't figure it out and he wouldn't tell her.

She turned off the water abruptly, blinking a couple times as she dried off. She finished off in the bathroom, clad in the sweats and tank top as she went back to the bedroom. Sydney closed her eyes, leaning her forward against the back of the door momentarily. She opened it and walked out, toward the kitchen.

Sydney strode past him, looking inside the fridge for a meal. She could see Sark look up at her from the file he was supposed to be studying, at the side of her eye. He was everywhere. Her skin began to itch.

"Sydney -"

"You and I will leave as soon as we can. We'll tell Sanko that we have business to attend to. He'll understand, and let us be on our way. I'll schedule our flight back to Los Angeles in a few minutes." She replied quickly, cutting him off. His next words stopped her from continuing preparation for the food she had in mind.

"You don't want to find Anna then?"

"Of course I do" Sydney responded in a sharp tone, turning around to face him. "Where have you been?"

"Could've had me fooled" The British man started, disregarding her question. "Sanko has been in Venice for a month. Anna is likely to still be here."

"And you think this because…?"

"There's quite the black market in Venice. Even if she has a buyer already, she'll have to wait for them to contact her. That takes time, obviously." He pointed out as he flipped through the newspaper pages casually.

"And why are you so intent on finding her?"

"Why do you think? I'm not anxious to head back to a cell."

Sark stood up, folding the papers back up and setting them down on the counter. Sydney put her back to him and started going for the suite door. She couldn't take being in the same room as him. A hand on her forearm stopped her. It gripped her arm and turned her body around smoothly.

"Where are you going?"

"Get your hand off of me Sark."

"You're just going to ignore what happened earlier then?"

His eyes went far into hers, searching hers for answers and she refused to give in. Earlier was her moment of weakness; her catharsis and she would not let that do her in.

"Yeah, actually. It sounds like a good plan to me" Sydney began, not bothering to let herself go. He'd just grab her arm again. "Sorry for not informing you…but seeing as how we don't seem to share ideas, I didn't feel it necessary." His eyes went down for a moment; only for a small time before they rose back up to look at her.

"Sydney -"

"We're not having this conversation."

"All right…the answer is yes then" Sark said firmly as he came closer to her. "And we're talking about this … now, and whether you like it or not."

"What's there to talk about? You kissed me. The end." Sydney responded, her hands resting on her hips.

Sark grit his teeth together briefly, replying back quickly. "No. Not the end.. Damn it Sydney.." He ran a hand through his blond spikes once, in a rare moment of shown irritation. "Yes, I kissed you. And I clearly remember you enjoying it."

A lightest blush appeared on her cheeks. He saw it. His composure returned.

He smirked, getting hold of her other arm and stepping close enough so that there was no more space between them.

"You have no idea how close I am to hitting you in that pretty face of yours."

"Then hit me" She didn't, and he smirked wickedly in his reply.

"Tell me, and I've been wondering this for some time, does Boy Scout's passion no longer sate you…or perhaps you've finally realized he never had any in the first place?"

She slapped him hard across the cheek. She glared at him and watched as he barely reacted to her action, coming back up with the nerve to show a smirk. A rich chuckle from his lips followed.

"You think you're so funny, don't you? Reality check, you're not." Her eyes blazed in a hot brown while his blues stayed cool. The lighting gave them a steely blue shade.

"You didn't give me an answer yet."

"Why do you want one?" Sydney started confused but then nodded her head in understanding, "Are you jealous of me…with him? That's it! I could just tell him that you want to be with him…but I don't think he'll reciprocate. Maybe you guys are soul mates…you think?" She grinned at the end, trying not to laugh.

Sark clearly wasn't amused. His eyes grew serious.

"It's not the same with him, is it?"

"What do you mean? We're fin-That's none of your business." Her glare faltered and the fire in her eyes dimmed, her brows knotting together.

"Lauren changed things between you two. Even if you don't see it, I do."

"I told you we're-"

"You and him, you're not fine." Sark said slowly, anger bubbling up under the surface. "You both will never be fine. He's using you, again" His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips before continuing, "Haven't you ever noticed that he always comes back to you at his convenience? And doesn't it trouble you that you're back together with a man who abandoned hope for you not long after your disappearance by marrying a new woman? And not to mention, conveniently falling out of love for the same woman the moment he realized her true motives and killing her as easy as any enemy" He laughed almost bitterly "…all before running right back to you after it all happened?"

"That's not…" She started, but gradually faded in her speech.

She opened her mouth for any kind of retort, but nothing came out. She bit the edge of her lip as she ran through her relationship with Vaughn in her head. Sure there were problems with Lauren around, and gone, but she didn't think there was that much to it.

Vaughn had told her himself that he loved Lauren, and he didn't regret moving on with his life a time ago when she first came back from the 'dead' . He had also told her that he wanted to leave his marriage to the blonde, but went right back to her side when the Senator died out of the blue. It had bothered her when she tried to discuss Lauren and her death with Vaughn but they never landed up having the conversation. Early on, he had said that he wasn't ready and she believed it…after all, it was a reasonable explanation for it but later on, months later, was no excuse. He would change the subject or tell her there was nothing to talk about, and that was final.

She realized how quickly she must have given up on that subject, because she didn't bring it up again after the couple of failed attempts.

Alice came into mind as well, all those years ago. She thought her and Vaughn were going somewhere in their relationship at that time. He had been flirting with her and even hinting to going out sometime, but she found out the hard way at the CIA hospital about him and Alice's relationship when Michael was admitted.

As soon as Alice's father died though, Vaughn returned to Alice..

His pattern was returning to a woman in grief while leaving the other at the sidelines. The other being her, in both situations. She stared blankly at the floor, her stupidity beginning to suffocate her.

As badly as she wanted to deny everything the Brit had said, he was right. He was always right. She hated that he was, and was not looking forward to the smirk that was most likely going to be on his face. She looked up, her vision a little blurred with tears, only to find that he wasn't anywhere near her. Wiping her eyes, she walked around and found him in the living room with a book.

She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning against the side wall. Why was she even there?

"How did-" She cleared her throat softly, and the noise caught his attention. He turned around in the lounge chair, a unclear expression shown on his features. "How did you know?"

His lips pressed together in a typical Sark fashion as he slowly rose from the chair, methodically placing the book to its original location before coming over in her direction at a distance.

"Honestly?" and she nodded, anxious for an answer of any kind. His eyes meet hers as he replied, "It wasn't hard to see. I found him easy to read, but I couldn't ever figure out one thing."

"What was that?"

She found herself seeking answers from him for the first time in her life. It confused her more than anything but he seemed to be a book of answers, so she figured, why not open its pages?

"You." Sark said plainly, his arms at his sides comfortably. His teeth toyed with his crooked lip, and it seemed to her that he was actually having trouble expressing a misunderstanding of his. He was used to coming up with the answers to everything, but she was a spoke in his wheel of answers. "It didn't add up to me why you kept going back to him, especially after how many times he burned you."

She continued to stare at him, only seriousness in the depths of his eyes. He was saying all of these things, and even stating a huge mistake of hers: Vaughn. She went back with Vaughn because she loved him, didn't she? Was that love or was it just being comfortable?

Her head was starting to pound, feeling the hints of a migraine coming on. She always went back to him, against her father's advice. He had even told her his opinion, after she told him about Vaughn marrying Lauren while she was believed to be dead.

"_Michael Vaughn is just a boy who was never good enough for you."_

She was having trouble concentrating on this revelation.

Had she wasted years on a man who would never truly appreciate her?

He would even tell her she was nuts when she would volunteer to go on a mission. He never understood that she loved what she did, and the only way she'd be able to quit…well, she couldn't actually. She was addicted to this line of work, it was in her veins.

"Sark?" She asked, looking for him once again. She didn't have to look far, he was in the kitchen sipping a glass of fruit cocktail. She didn't picture him for the type for fruit drinks, however, raising a brow at the odd sight. As if he sensed her thoughts, he spoke in defense. "There's no wine."

She couldn't help but laugh, walking over to the medicine cabinet and trying not to laugh more when she saw Sark giving her a mock glare at the side of her eye. She took two ibuprofen out of the bottle, searching for a drink and finding nothing of interest in the fridge. Sydney glanced over at the blonde while his focus was down. She stealthily snatched his drink, tossed two ibuprofen in her mouth and took a small gulp to get it down. "Ah, that's really nice. Thanks."

Sark raised an eyebrow, looking down at his drink and sipping it. "Yes, you're welcome" He replied, giving her an odd expression. "You know, I can make you some if you ask Sydney."

"No…thanks though. I'm just going to go to bed actually. Too much today…" She did the smallest of smiles, running a hand through her dark brown-toned hair. She rubbed her hands along the top of her arms, goose bumps rising on her skin before turning around toward the bedroom.

Sark watched her walk away, drinking down the rest of his drink. "Goodnight Sydney."

She turned around, nodding and acknowledging his words. She twiddled her thumbs, looking down briefly, before staring back at him. "I don't say this very much but…" She paused, tucking a hair piece back and continuing. "Thank you Sark. I mean it."

Sydney swore she saw a ghost of a smile appear on his features.

"You're welcome." The Brit muttered after she went into the bedroom, lightly closing the door behind her.

"_I'm sure Julian's told you that we never mix business with pleasure."_

Sark looked across the counter at his empty glass of fruit cocktail, no longer having a taste for another glass, her words echoing in his thoughts. He instead washed out the glass, and strode over to the liquor cabinet. Sark removed a bottle of tequila from its storage, opening it up swiftly.

The scent flooded his senses, and especially his memories, of the many events with Sydney Bristow that evening. With one of his trademark smirks apparent on his face, he then poured himself a shot and let it burn slowly down his throat.

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